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Alright, I concede defeat. I'm well and truly blocked. I've been trying to write fic on and off for the past month, but I've got zilch, nada, ZIP. Below are the scraps I've managed to write, but am discarding because - well, I think they're shit.

Flist, I'm calling out for help here bbs. I need some inspiration, or a smack up the side of the head, SOMETHING to help me finish the next chapter of Five Drinks so I'm in shape for the various drabble competitions I want to sign up for. Any tips for getting out of a block - or inspiring little plot bunnies you think need a home? Please comment, I'm at my wit's end.

Off to read kink-meme for inspiration ;_;



Christine stared at the door in front of her, taking a slow breath in through her nose and out through her mouth in an attempt to settle her nerves.

“Just knock on the door,” She said to herself, and blew a brown curl out of her face. “He told you to come, here you are, so just...” Christine trailed off and closes her eyes with a groan. She’d been standing in the hallway of the seminar room for at least five minutes trying to work up the courage to knock on the door of ... what would she even call this thing with Leonard?

‘A most unusual set of circumstances,’ Her sister’s comment sounded in her mind as Christine remembered their earlier conversation. ‘I would advise caution in regard to any... encounter you may share in the future. Strange cadets do not make appropriate bedfellows.’

‘Really Majel,’ Christine had scoffed, eyes crinkling at her sister’s matter of fact tone. ‘If I didn’t know better, I would never suspect you had a drop of French blood – where’s your sense of romance and adventure?’

‘In my teens, where such insanity belongs,’ Majel Chapel had responded in a dry tone that was an almost exact replica of their mother’s. Christine didn’t miss the sideways glance Majel had shot at the distant figure of Captain Pike, her former commanding officer. Christine had long suspected that the tension between the Captain and his ‘Number One’ was of a more romantic nature than either of them had let on, and she felt a bit sorry for the both of them that rank had kept them a part for so long. ‘Sex doesn’t make relationships, sometimes it just makes everything more difficult.’

‘Sex improves a great number of things,’ Christine scoffed, and stood up to go in search of her Cadet from the shuttle. ‘You might want to take a chance, before he flies off into the great unknown. You won’t be able to follow him this time.’ She had left her sister in thought, and wandered around the station in search of Leonard McCoy.

Which brought Christine to her current predicament; she stood in front of the lecturer’s quarters with no idea what to do next. She couldn’t hide behind the thin veil of alcohol or ‘endorphins’ to justify barging in on this man that she hardly knew. Her stomach tightened with anxiety and her pulse raced as she grew more flustered. She took in a breath and raised her hand to knock on the door.

“Christine?” A deep voice rumbled from behind her and she spun with a gasp. Leonard McCoy stood in front of her, hair once more in regulation order and one dark eyebrow raised in a familiar way. His eyes trailed from her neat ponytail down her simple blue uniform shirt and slacks. She blushed, but stood her ground. She had toyed with changing out of her uniform and into something more comfortable, but decided that she wanted to look regulation if she decided to stay for the actual seminar portion of the evening.

“Hey Sugar,” Christine drawled, trying to affect a calm exterior as her pulse calmed down from the shock of being surprised by him in the hallway.


“I strongly advise you against this,” Christine’s sister said in an even tone, as if they were discussing the weather instead of Christine’s love life. The two were walking down the long circular promenade of the Spacedock towards the seminar rooms where the seminar was to be held. Christine had considered changing out of her dress uniform into something more comfortable, but reconsidered when her sister had pointed out that any personnel were likely to be medical officers. “You hardly know the man.”

“Oh, I know him plenty,” Christine said, laughing when her sister rolled her blue eyes in a rare display of aggravation. Christine thought her sister was far too uptight for her own good, and was pleased to see her more relaxed and open after getting the command of her own ship. “Just because I haven’t been serving with the man for six years doesn’t mean I don’t know something good when I see it.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Her sister’s tone had reached near arctic levels, and Christine snickered slightly as they stopped in front of the seminar room. Chris almost felt her sister’s glare, and turned to face the older woman with a teasing smile.

“Chere, I’m not blind you know, I remember the way that Captain looked at you, looks at you,” Christine took hold of her sister’s hand, the fingers longer than her own and calloused from the harsh life Starfleet had to offer. Her sister’s gold uniform with broad Captain’s braids was a stark contrast to Christine’s medical dress blues. Christine enjoyed the option of wearing the skirted version when she could, while her sister preferred the more businesslike look of the trousers and sweater. She tucked a raven lock of her sister’s hair behind her ear, and looked into a face that resembled her own so much that people once thought them twins.

Her sister was twenty-eight now though, and her face has more depth and experience to it than Christine’s own. She had always been a little shorter than her sister, a little curvier. Christine found herself a little sad to notice that as they aged the differences between the two of them became more pronounced, and she squeezed her sister’s hand tightly while giving a small smile. “You’d be good with him you know.”

“You’re still very young, petit,” her sister said with a sigh, suprising Christine by using her childhood endearment. Her sister’s smile was sad and resigned as she pulled her hand out of Christine’s. “You don’t really understand the price of... those feelings. It was never the ranks that came between us.” Her sister turned to leave, sensible heels clicking down the hallway


Title: Medical Professionals
Author: down_fell_jill
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Chapel/McCoy
Progress: one-shot
Summary: “I swear to God, Chris, you call out ‘Leonarda’ during sex and I’ll jam a hypospray so far up your ass Scotty won’t even be able to beam it out.” Christopher Chapel always knew wooing Lenna McCoy was a dangerous undertaking.
A/N: Screw plot man, I bring you porn. This is me avoiding plot for five drinks Which is slowly killing me as I rewrite it over and over ugh oh god Also to apologise for being a sucky updater. ENJOY!

“Goddamn, Chapel,” McCoy’s voice is rough from the whisky they’ve been drinking, and a touch husky. Chris shudders as Lenna’s hands push up under his shirt and she drags her nails down his back in retaliation. Chris smiles against the tan column of her throat and begins licking his way down to the edge of her blue uniform as his fingers continue their circular movement inside his CMO. “Christ, where did you learn that?”

“You know, I went to medical school,” Chris says in a perfectly bland tone as he pulls Lenna’s panties down her thighs with a bit more slowness than is really required. The brunette doctor bucks as his tongue resumes its exploration of her breast which he’s managed to nuzzle over the collar of her uniform. He nips at the thin skin teasingly before turning his attention to undoing the zipper of her uniform – with his teeth. It’s a lot harder than Galia made it sound, but the look on McCoy’s face when he does it is worth the embarrassment of asking the Orion for advice – even harder to get her to give it verbally instead of practical demonstrations. He pauses once he has the dress below her breasts and leans back to appreciate the view. “Graduated and everything. What do you think of my technique – as my commanding officer of course.”

“You’re trying to kill me,” McCoy pants out, her hazel eyes managing to glare at him even as her pupils are dilated from the sensations Chris is working very hard to produce. He grins at the older woman and leans down to give her a kiss; she changes it into an open mouthed, hot and wet version that makes Chris instantly hard. McCoy groans under his lips and he smirks to himself as he tugs her uniform down her delectable body, releasing her lips to press more open mouthed kisses down her stomach as he goes. “You’re trying to become CMO, is that it?”

“That’s my dastardly plan,” Chapel says dryly as he pulls his own shirt over his head, swallowing back a groan of his own as Lenna runs her cool hands up the planes of his chest. McCoy smirks up at him, a dimple appearing in her cheek that makes Chris’ stomach twist as the warm fuzzies he’s been feeling for his decidedly un-fuzzy Doctor begin to invade his body once more. He lets out a puff of frustration and pushes those thoughts away, preferring to concentrate on just getting through the sex before trying to seduce her into any sort of a relationship. He leans down to lose himself in her, the scent of peaches and whisky that he always associates with her clouding his senses with desire. “Right now, my plan involves you, me, and thirty minutes without having to hypospray the dear captain.”

“Thirty?” McCoy snorts, her long surgeon’s fingers tracing down his spine and into his trousers. Chris can’t stop the moan that bubbles out of his throat this time, and Lenna grinning up at him makes giving in worth it. His hands fumble at his belt and trousers as he curls in on himself in order to capture the tip of one rosy nipple between his lips. He hums against her breast, causing her to hitch her breathing as she continues on in a low voice. “This is Jim Kirk, man whore of the fleet. Better make it twenty. Isn’t that what you younger boys are good for, quick and dirty?”

“Hmm, quick and dirty,” Chris says with a mock frown as he gets his belt and trousers unsnapped. He rocks back onto his heels, letting his hands drift teasingly up and down Lenna’s thighs as he fakes contemplation. His pants and boxers are sliding down his thighs, McCoy’s fingers trying to pull them down from her awkward incline on the raised medical bed. He looks down at her with as serious a face as he can muster, blonde hair falling a bit into his blue eyes which are twinkling rather mischievously. “I think I’ve just been called a minute man. I don’t feel much like playing doctor anymore...”

“Aw hell, Chris,” Lenna drawls his name out, rolling her eyes as she yanks his trousers and underwear to his knees in one sharp movement. She pauses for a moment, a beautiful blush rising across her cheeks that makes Chris giddy, especially as it continues all the way down to her full breasts. McCoy, he thinks, has beautiful breasts.


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July 2009

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